This weekend, my husband and I are entertaining two sets of out of town guests. A few days ago, I realized what a different experience this is, compared to how it would have been if instead of being pregnant, I was dealing with the effects of another failed cycle.
This morning was my pregnancy bloodtest. Afterwards, we had brunch with a couple visiting from our old city, who have an almost three year old. Oh, and they’re pregnant with their second, due at the end of January.
Last time we saw them was at the beginning of July, just before we moved. My husband had told me that they had recently started trying for number two, so wondering whether they would be pregnant yet was in the back of my mind as we went over for dinner.
We were just coming off our IVF cycle in June, which, while overall a success, resulted in no embryo transfer due to my OHSS. Instead, I had just started my medications for my frozen embryo transfer to take place later that month.
We sat down to dinner, and sure enough I noticed that the wife was not drinking alcohol, in stark contrasts to the several glasses of wine that I was consuming. My heart sank thinking that here they were pregnant with #2, and we were still in this uncertain limbo.
I remember hoping that the pregnancy was still early enough that it would not become a topic of conversation. A few times throughout the night, she made little slips which impled she might be pregnant, such as saying “when the kids get older”, but overall I thought we were out of the woods. We had split up our conversation by gender, so I was catching up with her, and our husbands were chatting about their own things, when all of a sudden I heard my husband heartily congratulate the other guy.
Crap, I thought. Sure enough, we heard the pregnancy announcement, and had a (thankfully brief) conversation about how wonderful it all was.
Fast forward to a few days ago when I remembered that she was pregnant, and that several months later she must be showing quite a bit. I was so grateful knowing that I, too was pregnant, and could enjoy the brunch, without dreading an engagement with a huge pregnant woman the day of my negative blood test.
Our other out of town guest is arriving shortly and will be staying with us overnight and all day tomorrow. He’s an old family friend who I haven’t seen in many years. Two years ago, when my husband and I were on sabbatical in the US for a year, my dad had told me that this guy was living in New York City, which wasnt too far from the little town we were in, and that we should visit him at some point. I exchanged a few emails with him, but ended up not seeing him the first time we went.
We had another, longer visit planned later that year, so I was planning on emailing him to set something up. I remember the week before the visit thinking I should email him in the next few days to let him know we were coming out. I was pregnant with our first pregnancy, approaching the end of the first trimester and looking forward to announcing to our families in the next few weeks.
Instead, I started spotting, which turned to bleeding, which became a miscarriage and d&c. We still went to New York City the following week, but I never contacted the family friend. I just couldn’t stomach the idea of trying to have fun and make conversation with someone I hadn’t seen in over ten years so soon after such a horrible event.
A few days ago (maybe two days after my first positive pregnancy test), my dad emailed me to let me know that this family friend would be arriving for a short visit this week, and did I want to see him. We arranged some plans for him to arrive at our house tonight.
And once again, I thought what a strange coincidence that the reason our last visit with him was because of the miscarriage, and that the first chance we get at another visit I just found out I was pregnant again. Somehow it feels like we’ve come full circle.